


A Perfect Disaster

by soloheir



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind Ignis Scientia, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2020-07-11 19:54:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19933603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soloheir/pseuds/soloheir
Summary: When Prompto is sponsored by a mysterious Ignis Scientia for a invite only cooking course he's overjoyed. The confusion comes later when he realizes his sponsor and cooking partner is mostly blind. For Ignis, the confusion comes when he realizes the man he's sponsored has the cooking talents of a rock. A soft au to mend your soul. Ignis is blind but not completely.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There will be 2-3 more chapters. All short and sweet.

Prompto could feel the heat rising under his collar. It wasn’t often that he felt so completely and utterly outclassed. Every person seated wore some version of a business casual outfit, all but ironed to crisp perfection. He on the other hand had thought that when cooking, one should wear something that could be stained. It was just one more thing for him to add to his list of why he shouldn’t be here. The second being that his sponsor still hadn’t showed up.

If this guy was just taking the piss out of him, well Prompto might as well kill himself before the embarrassment did.

This was one of the most expensive and sought after courses in the city. Not only that but if you wanted to be successful, you would need their recommendation. Unfortunately for Prompto he was neither talented or rich. Two things that help young entrepreneurs break into businesses. 

His passion was in photography but his parents insisted that taking up a real job was the only way he’d be able to support himself and his useless hobby. He was all but estranged at this point. They worked long hours and when they were home, they only cared about if he was making money. He felt like a machine. Just another cog in the wheel. Still, cooking was something of an art - and he was willing to give it his all.

If his partner would just show up already.

Initially, he was sure that his sponsor was just fashionably late. Then he was sure that he was just in traffic. Now, fifteen minutes later, he could tell the teacher was beginning to visibly fret as time ticked on. Prompto could only assume it was because she was going to kick him out. He wouldn’t make a scene. He’d pick his things up and go just as quickly as he could. And then he’d probably never show his face again.

Picking at his thumbnail anxiously, he nearly jumped out of his skin as the silence was broken by the door clanging open. The person in the doorway had a sheepish expression and a smile that said, _That was a mistake_.

The teacher looked thrilled, her body language changing from anxious to ecstatic. She was tiny. And standing beside the man who just appeared, she looked even smaller.

Which looking at him, Prompto could only think one thing. _He’s really good looking_ . **And rich.** That much was obvious from his perfectly pressed trousers and shirt. He was wearing something that Prompto could probably sell for his monthly rent. 

Eyes wandered from face to hands, noticing a long stick in his left hand, held just above the floor in a resting position. _He’s blind?_ Prompto thought, trying to figure out how that could work. He’s in a cooking class… Prompto shook the thought from his head quickly. Anyone could cook. Being blind didn’t mean anything. 

Still, Prompto looked around curiously, he wasn’t even sure if this was his partner. There weren’t any open seats but that didn’t mean anything. Prompto had yet to meet his benefactor.

“I apologize for my tardiness. I was let out at the wrong building. It took me a bit to find my bearings.” He tilted his head towards the teacher, one hand moving to push back some stray bangs that hand fallen on his forehead. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.”

The class was unnaturally silent and Prompto assumed, like him, they were taking in the sight. He was dressed better than anyone in the room and he didn’t even know it. The teacher smiled, genuinely happy to see Ignis before gently putting her hand on his arm and guiding him towards Prompto’s table.

“It’s no problem, Ignis. I was simply worried.” _Did they know each other?_

“There’s no need. I can manage well enough on my own.”

She smiled although it didn't reach her eyes and released him as Ignis' hand found the tables edge. Prompto sat a foot or so from him, holding his breath.

Should he introduce himself? Should he say anything? God, now it’s been too long and he’s going to scare him. Shit, why didn't she introduce them. 

“I won’t bite.”

Prompto chokes when the man turns, unfocused gaze directly upon him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis learns that Prompto isn't exactly a good cook. Prompto learns that he sometimes he should think before speaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Let me know your thoughts on this au! I hope I'm writing the impairment respectfully. It's based on my fathers own blindness. Enjoy and I hope you enjoy this little bit of Promnis silliness.

“I - I thought you were --” Prompto hisses before just clamping his mouth shut, afraid of offending the other man and seeming like a complete jerk. He had the stick - and his eyes were - well - they weren’t normal.

Ignis’ eyes crinkled at the edges as he broke into a smile while the teacher began to speak behind them. Her commanding soft voice filtering through the room but it did nothing to steal Prompto’s attention away. He was seriously considering running for the door as soon as the opportunity arose.

“I am.” Was the simple answer that came from quirked lips. Prompto was sure that Ignis was enjoying himself. And that only served to make him feel dumber.

“Then how?” He says, voice barely a whisper, not daring to let anyone else hear him. He felt like he was being pranked but the guys eyes were clouded over, the soft green just barely visible. 

“You’re a very loud mouth breather.”

_Check. Mate._ Prompto nearly fell off his chair. Expression a mix between horror and indignity. He was a _MOUTH BREATHER_. That was his identifier? God, this was just one thing after another on the shame scale.

“Oh,” was all Prompto could muster before ripping his eyes away from the masterpiece currently roasting him back to the instructor.

“You all should know me by name, since you’re all somewhat familiar faces, but for those who do not. I am a Lunafreya Fleuret. Culinary artist and visionary director of the Tenebrae restaurant.”

Prompto knew she looked famous but he didn’t realize she was a part of the most famous and well-reviewed kitchens in the city. No wonder the class took an invite to be a part of it. He suddenly felt outclassed in more ways than his fashion sense.

_How had he lucked into this?_ When he read exclusive and elite, he thought that was a marketing technique. He barely cooked oatmeal well and from the looks of it these people probably hand-rolled their oats and cooked them in fresh spring water so that they could keep them close to their most natural form. He was so out of his league. Gaze flicking over to Ignis, who was stiff and still, obviously listening to Lunafreya with intense focus, he realized something.

Not only was he up a creek without a paddle but his driver was blind - maybe. Prompto still wasn’t entirely sure.

They broke into standing groups, everyone making their way towards the kitchen. He started to leave but found himself frozen between asking if the guy wanted help or letting him do his own thing. He finally decided he might as well ask instead of fretting over it. 

“Do you - Can I help you find the spot?” He said, cheeks red. He didn’t want to seem stupid but he really was confused by his sponsor. The man seemed highly capable _and_ he was in a cooking class, so surely he was able to cook, but then again, Prompto had no idea. He hadn’t talked to him beyond this small interaction. Their correspondence had always been through paperwork, never phone calls. Even his interview was videotaped and sent in.

“I’d appreciate that.” Ignis said, expression nuetral, leaving nothing for Prompto to gleam from it. He waited a second before lifting his arm as if to say, _Here._ Prompto made sure to do exactly as Luna had. Hand placed in the exact same way. Moving slowly across the room just to be extra sure nothing tripped them up or distracted him.

“You seem nervous.” Ignis said after a moment.

“I am.”

Prompto’s answer was blunt and honest. His voice low as he was still trying to listen to Luna’s instructions. She had started speaking a few moments before they reached their own counter. They sounded simple enough. Fry an egg. He could do that. He’d watched his parents cook before and while he wasn’t the best, he was sure he could do this.

The assignment, Luna explained, was something simple so each pair could find a comfortable level of partnership between them. She paced towards their table and back again as she talked. Each time she got closer it only made Prompto more nervous.

“You shouldn’t worry really. It’s just an egg. Very simple really.” Ignis spoke at Prompto's elbow. Standing to the side.

“Yeah, of course. You’re right. Definitely.”

Prompto’s lack of confidence was evident in his stammering. And Ignis’ face contorted just slightly, as if trying to figure out why. The first time it had left the neutral expression that Prompto was beginning to believe was his resting expression.

“Well, obviously, I think you should take the lead. I’m here more for moral support as it were.” Ignis says, hands patting around the counter until he finds the top drawer, long fingers feeling around until he finds what he’s looking for. “Ah, there’s the apron. Are you wearing one? Do you need one. There’s an extra in there.”

Prompto sends up a thank you to the Astrals above, because no he doesn't have one, and grabs one quickly, tying it on. He works hard to ignore how the others are already cooking around the room. Grabbing a skillet from the nearby hook, he turns on the heat and starts to crack egg.

“What are you doing?” Ignis interrupts after Prompto smacks the shell against the edge of the skillet.

“Cooking an egg…”

“You didn’t put down any non stick cooking spray.”

“How would you know?” He says bluntly.

“I’m blind not deaf - I would have heard it.” Ignis retorts, just as bluntly. Body posture changing as he takes on a more sassy pose. 

“Fine, fine. You’re right. I forgot.” _Forgot? Yeah, right._ He didn’t even know he was supposed to do that. He just figured the skillet was fine as is. It probably cost more than his camera.

He moved to spray the pan, listening to the sizzle as it hit the already heated up metal. Then popped the egg right on top.

Prompto looked at Ignis curiously, moving closer to him, trying to see if he would blink or react in anyway. He really didn’t know what to think of him. 

“Could you give me some breathing room?” Ignis said with an air of irritation after a moment. Not flinching nor reacting to Prompto's presence save for the words spoken in his direction.

“Holy shit. How do you know?” Prompto asked in awe. His ears went red with embarrassment at being caught again and he had already lost his train of thought regarding the egg. It was practically out of his mind entirely with someone as interesting as Ignis around.

“Are you going to make a big deal out of my disability? Because I’m really not interested in you mocking me for your entertainment.” There was spite there, a hard edge that Prompto didn't mean to bring out of his sponsor. Especially not when he needed this job to get by.

“Whoa, no way - I’m sorry. I didn’t mean - Shit, I’m so sorry. I was just. I guess I was just curious. I can leave - seriously. I’m so sorry.” Prompto felt properly chastised, shifting awkwardly as his entire body took on the same red tint as his ears. He was such an idiot sometimes. And now he was being a jerk. He knew better than to let his curiosity get the better of him. 

“You don’t have to leave, just… leave... it be.” Ignis said finally. He had taken to a new stance, arms crossed and fingers at the bridge of his nose as if to slide up his glasses though they hadn't moved at all during the conversation.

“It’s just kind of weird -- how do you do it?” Prompto asks, apparently incapable of leaving the subject alone. He almost bites his tongue after he says it realizing he'd just agreed to leave it be. 

“Do what?” Ignis' brows furrow, trying to suss out the blondes meaning.

“This,” Prompto says, gesturing to the class in general before realizing how stupid that was. Ignis is kind enough that he doesn't roll his eyes or sigh, but he does raise a brow as if to question what _This_ could be in reference to. “I mean cooking. You must be really good if you’re a part of this. Like, _you know,_ able to sponsor someone.”

Ignis sighs. Shoulders sagging slightly as he speaks. “I am. Or was. I haven’t been able to properly partake like I used to... but that doesn’t take away my talents.”

“Oh, so you haven’t always been blind.”

“No. I haven’t.”

The air settles between them and Prompto feels deflated. He’s made a terrible first impression. His sponsorship is going to be withdrawn. He just knows it. He bites his lip, the egg forgotten as the edges begin to blacken and the inner yolk begins to burn as well. The low temperature building the longer the egg sits forgotten. Prompto's attention completely on Ignis.

“I’m sorry, really. I’m sorry I made a big deal out of it. I’m just - you can’t see it but ...uh, I do not fit in here. I’m - I’m not like you. You’re like ... really, really, fancy. Geez, you dress better than everyone here. Seriously. I’m just sorry about this. I’m normally not so -- whatever this is.” He says, hands flailing and gesturing towards himself until he realizes Ignis won’t see it anyways so he just lets his hands fall at his sides with a thud.

“Ah. Hmmm. That’s very kind of you.” He says finally. Expression back to a more neutral expression that makes Prompto feel as if he's uninterested in Prompto's sob story and particularly uninterested in talking about himself anymore. Prompto doesn’t say anything, just looks at him and hopes he'll say something else to keep the conversation going. “Do you smell something?”

Prompto sniffs, “Yeah smells like burnt --”

His eyes widen as he whips around to look at the skillet. The egg turning black as it begins to catch fire where the spray has all but burned up and the fried egg is beginning to look combustible.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

He quickly turns off the heat and puts the skillet aside. Careful not to burn Ignis as he puts one hand out to push his just slightly backwards and away from the hot skillet he sets on the cooling pad.

“You … burnt the egg?” Ignis asks. Disbelief in his voice.

“Yes. I burnt the egg.” He admits, ashamedly staring at the black crisp.

As if on cue, Luna crosses their paths, a clipboard in hand. 

“How unfortunate, Ignis. I’ll have to give you low marks for this but better luck next time. I’m sure this was a fluke.” She says, her voice soft and serious.

Prompto just wants to die. He burnt an egg. The simplest dish in the world and he burnt it. The sound Ignis makes behind him pulls him from his thoughts at the same time the cold pellets of sprinklers hit his skin.

"Unbelievable." Ignis says behind him, voice a mixture of exasperation and possibly humor, but lacking any real judgement. Which is the only reason Prompto doesn't throw himself out the window immediately.

Luna’s voice rings out, “Everyone out please. Apparently we’ve set off the sprinkler system. Out- out please. We’ll need to call security! Please, gather your things and we’ll meet here next week. Sorry for the inconvenience. So Sorry.”

Prompto can’t stand the stares he’s getting as student and mentors walk past him with disgusted looks and angry glares. He’s ruined tonight. For himself, for them, and for his sponsor.

“Ignis, here, let me help you.” He says, knowing Luna has her hands full. He grabs his own bag with one hand and starts to tug at Ignis' arm.

“Did I make a mistake in sponsoring you…” Ignis says, out loud. Prompto figures he probably meant to say it to himself but answers anyways.

“I hope not…”

“Me too.”

*

Waiting outside the steel building, against one of the large silver accent walls, Prompto finally breaks the silence, “Can I drive you home at least?”

He feels terrible. He’s not only effectively shut class down early but Ignis’ driver can’t get him yet. Apparently he’s in a meeting. Prompto has trouble believing anyone could be in a meeting at 7 p.m. but he doesn’t argue. Instead standing with Ignis for the next thirty five minutes in silence, save for Ignis’ only words, a polite, _You don’t have to stay, you know._

Ignis, to his credit, only raises his eye brow slightly. Which is an improvement over the height it’s been raised most of the night. “You haven’t the slightest idea where I live.”

“I could put it in my GPS.” Prompto says optimistically. “Please. I’d really like to. I feel like I’ve ruined this entire night. And you've done me the honor of sponsoring me. The least I can do is give you a ride.”

“How do I know you won’t crash us into the nearest building.” Ignis says, a teasing tone to his voice that Prompto finds comforting after the seriousness he’s received all night. 

“I honestly can’t make promises at this point but I swear I’m pretty good at driving.”

“Your video interview said you were _pretty_ good at cooking.” Ignis counters.

“Touche…. Okay. I just - I need the money and the experience - and honestly I need the recommendation. There’s no way I’m going to be able to support myself or my family if I don’t. I’m sorry I …. exaggerated my skills. I guess I figured my partner could carry me if I didn’t know something.” Prompto said earnestly. It was better to lay it all out. Maybe he’d get some form of forgiveness for his screw ups tonight.

“You burnt an egg.” Ignis says flatly.

“I know…” Prompto responds exasperated. “I was distracted. You’re really…. Uh, interesting.”

Ignis tilts his head, considering Prompto's choice of words for a moment, before he settles on an expression that seems mildly flattered by the statement.

“Well, I guess you can drive me home but just know I won’t be any help. My sense of direction is completely lost once I’m seated.” He acquiesces.

Prompto smiles, wide. Taking Ignis’ arm and leading him towards the car - an old beater - stopping briefly at Luna’s side where she sits evidently content to wait until the fire department and the others leave so she might return upstairs.

“I’ll be riding home with Prompto tonight, Ms. Fleuret.” He says, tone polite and respectful. She nods with a smile, pulling out her phone and beginning to type something. Prompto doesn’t stick around to snoop instead continuing towards the passenger side. 

The door opens with minimal creaking and Prompto helps Ignis find his bearings in the unfamiliar car, hand gently cupping his head so it won’t hit the frame when his tall body attempts to fit inside the compact space.

“Sorry, it’s kind of small.”

“It’s no problem.” Ignis replies with a small smile as he bunches his long limbs into the small space. Gingerly feeling around for his bearings.

Running around the other side, Prompto hops in, letting the engine warm up as he inputs Ignis’ address. Surprisingly - or perhaps unsurprisingly - he’s in the thick of the richest part of town. He might as well be in the Royal and Crown fashion company as close as he lives to it. He must be paying a fortune to stay there. He hums a little to himself as he presses buttons and finally hits ‘Go’ on the app.

The AI begins to speak and the car is quiet again. Prompto notices the way that Ignis traces the seat and door with his hand, mapping it out no doubt and exploring with his strongest sense.

“You said you weren’t always blind. Did it happen recently?” He asks, gently prodding. Unable to stop himself from asking, insatiable curiosity building up like it had earlier.

“Yes, in the past year.” Ignis says. Short but to the point. Obviously still not open to talking.

“Oh. Okay..." Prompto doesn't want to push him. Instead his mind drifts back to earlier. "Am I really a mouth breather?”

Ignis snorts out loud. Apparently amused by Prompto’s question.

“Did that really bother you so much?”

“Mouth breather is not the legacy I want for myself.”

“You prefer egg burner?”

“No! I don’t want either of those!”

Ignis smiles to himself, face turned in Prompto’s direction. The smirk on his face letting Prompto know the mood has changed for the better.

“I can see shadows.”

“What?” Prompto says, seeking clarification.

“Shadows. I can see light and a bit of … I guess you could say form - but I just say shadows. It’s easier to imagine.”

“Oh. That’s cool.” Prompto replies, afraid to say much more in case Ignis decides he doesn’t want to talk anymore.

“It’s better than nothing I suppose.” He says, tone full of something Prompto can only imagine is frustration or defeat or some combination.

“So, you did see me? Sort of?”

“Yes, Prompto. That’s how I knew someone was there. It’s like a blob... really. There’s no detail. So I’m still not much help in the kitchen or anywhere really... besides my technical knowledge but I’m not willing to let the loss of my eyesight keep me away from what I love.” Ignis says the last part with such determination that Prompto can't help but feel the fire in his chest grow too.

“Cooking, right?”

“Yes. I love it. It’s an art.”

“Yeah. I think so to. Except I think I might be more into abstract art.” He teases.

Ignis waves him off, a smile tugging at his lips again. Prompto is beginning to like the way he looks when he smiles. It’s nice. And he’s hoping he’ll see him again next week if he doesn’t get told to screw off before the end of the night. The silence this time is comfortable when the conversation trails off.

“Why cooking?” Ignis says finally as the destination is nearing. “You obviously have no background in it. Why not something else?”

“My mom wants me to do it. Says its good honest work and it pays well…”

“And what did you want to do?” Ignis says curiously, showing interest in Prompto for the first time. Prompto looks at him, surprised that he cares to know anything about him. He's just boring. Ignis is enjoying himself, Prompto thinks. Outstretching his fingers in the wind. Arm outside of the window, enjoying the cool night air.

“I like taking photographs. You know, like advertisements or weddings.” Prompto says wistfully.

“Advertisements make money. And weddings are quite expensive, so I hear.”

“Yeah, well my parents think it’s gimmicky and not worth my money. Which we don’t really have any money anyways, so this was probably the better option.” Prompto isn't embarrassed by his family's lack of money but it still feels odd saying it out loud. Like he's asking for a handout.

“You’re going to need practice if you hope to stand a chance in hell in winning a recommendation from Luna.” Ignis says after a few minutes. “If you’re willing to learn I could teach you.”

Prompto wants to say how, but instead swallows the word, saying instead, “When?”

“We could start tomorrow if you like. I think there’s a lot you need to know…”

“I work at a gas station until 3 but I could come over then, if that’s works?”

Ignis nods as the phone starts to announce their arrival. Prompto would be lying if he wasn’t impressed by the size of the house they’ve pulled up to. He lets out a whistle.

“It is a bit … much, isn’t it?” Ignis says, sounding awfully close to ashamed.

“It looks pretty damn nice. Wow. You actually live here. Are you like rich or something?” A stupid question, really. Of course, he’s rich. The question really should have been, is this your house or your families house.

“Something like that.” He says, hand moving towards the door handle.

“Oh hey, wait a second, I’ll get it.” He hops out, killing the engine before zipping to the other side. The doors hard to open, he’s gotta give it a little TLC but it pops open like magic once he does. “Can I walk you in, at least?”

Now that he understands Ignis’ blindness, he feels more comfortable asking if he can help.

“Yes. I’d appreciate that.” Cane in one hand, he lifts his other arm to allow Prompto to hold it gently. Fingers just barely putting pressure on Ignis’ expensive clothing.

They fumble with the keys for a minute before Ignis finds the right one. Mostly because Prompto keeps trying to help and Ignis keeps brushing his hand off, saying this one is definitely the right one. In the end, Prompto thinks Ignis is doing it for giggles rather than actually not knowing the key. He seems much to put together to be unable to find his house key.

Prompto hopes it’s an excuse for them to spend a little bit longer together. He’s having fun, truth be told.

When the door finally opens, Prompto catches a glimpse inside. It’s beautiful, aesthetically pleasing and definitely looks expensive. Ignis steps inside before turning around, almost awkwardly. Apparently, neither of them know how to end the night. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then. Here. At 4? That should be plenty of time for you to change and drive here. Right?”

“Yeah, Yeah! That’s perfect.” Prompto had almost forgotten. “Thanks again. Seriously. I won’t let you down.”

“I’m holding you to that, Prompto.”

He felt a warmth come to his cheeks. It was the first time someone had said his name in a long while. It felt good. And for some reason when Ignis said it, his name sounded fancy even.

“See you around, Ignis.”

“Yes. Be seeing you…”

Ignis held the door open a few more seconds before a soft smile over took his features and he finally moved to close the door.

“Good night.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis is getting ready for tonight with Prompto and Gladio stops in to see him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick 1/2 of the chapter because I love posting things as soon as I can. Enjoy and this offers a bit more background on Ignis.

Ignis had a spring in his step the next morning. Thinking of Prompto gave him more than enough to mull over as he commenced his daily tasks. Showering, brushing his teeth and then selecting an outfit from his closet. His vision was low, almost completely gone. The vague light and shadows gave him the barest sense of color and shape but he had crossed that path a long time ago. His closet was organized from side to side, the large spacious walk in had at one time been a grand place for him to put his favorite clothing on display but now it was austere. Each article grouped together based on length and style, then by color.

There was little need for an extensive organization method though due to his lack of diversity in dyes. Everything he owned was black, grey, white or muted. He did have a small section of t-shirts at the end of his rack but they were never worn outside of the house. He was much too aware of appearances for that. The community could judge him as they wished but he would never give them more ammo to do so. He had lost his vision not his dignity. He refused to stop dressing and doing what he wanted to do.

Hence, the cooking sponsorship. He could cook. He could feel for the pots and pans and wear protective gloves as per usual but it felt claustrophobic. There was little room for creativity when his mind was obsessing over the minor technicalities such as grease popping, or not being able to see if something caught fire.

He pulls on a black button up over fitted black jeans, hands threading a belt through the loop as he remembers last night. If he had been able to see… He could have stopped that accident. He could have saved himself, Luna and the boy the embarrassment. Ignis sighed, fingers rising to rub the bridge of his nose.

Luna had been supportive - encouraging even of his plan. Never had they accepted sponsorships, not in the way that Ignis needed - and never of such unvetted caliber. He should have known better than to trust a video interview but he was  _ nervous _ . There was something nagging at the back of his mind during the process - that his disability would scare them off. Maybe he was overthinking it but he knew how strange people could become when dealing with something they were unfamiliar with.

At work, around Noctis, is was … strained but he blamed that on the way their methods changed. It was no longer Ignis mothering Noctis but vice-versa. The roles reversing bothered Ignis to the point he’d thrown a small tantrum after the first few weeks only to hear that Noctis didn’t care. The CEO of Royal and Crown was adamant that Ignis would be accommodated where he requested it or not. 

In hindsight, it had helped. The accommodations had streamlined Ignis’ work and he could still do most of his job. Some things though needed to be given to others for quality control purposes and that alone  _ killed _ him. The fabric and materials could still be vetted by him, the sense of touch was even more increased now that he only had it to go by. The budget and advising was still his priority but aesthetics and fashion were unfortunately not so easy for him. He could see their visions, couldn’t get the feeling their drawings were meant to convey. 

Noctis had been clear he didn’t mind and Gladio had stepped in to fill any cracks that Ignis had left open when changing his ways. Still, with cooking, it wasn’t so easy to just change the way he did things. 

He couldn’t see the plating, or watch things boil. He had to rely on other methods like timers and touch - but again, he’d already burn a few fingers in an attempt to simply make his own coffee. He didn’t feel like losing anymore of his senses. Especially not to stubborness.

He had invested in a new coffeemaker, an easier one. And downgraded for the time being from hand ground coffee beans to instant cups. They tasted terrible but they did the job and allowed him to feel a bit more rejuvenated. By the time he’d finished his morning routine and taken his seat in the kitchen for resting, the front door creaked open.

“It’s just me!” Gladio’s voice rang out from the far side of the house. The sound of plastic and paper let Ignis know that he was bringing groceries in. “I had to stop by the store for Noctis and I knew you were missing some stuff so I went ahead and brought it by.”

Ignis sat, listening. Sipping his coffee as Gladio entered the room, heavy footfalls directing Ignis where to aim his gaze.

“Store said you ordered more than normal on the app. Did you mean to do that or did the voice commands mess up?” Gladio asked bluntly, never one to pretend Ignis’ disability didn’t exist. Ignis both appreciated it and found himself annoyed by it often.

“No, that’s correct. I’m having company this evening.” A simple answer. One that Gladio is likely to take out of context and tease him about but it saves him trying to explain the strangeness of it.

“Oh yeah?” Gladio says nonplussed as he begins to take items out and stock them in the appropriate place, making sure to double check the labels that Ignis has so elegantly etched in the pantry. It was probably one of the first things he did when he first arrived besides renovating the kitchen. Thinking of that hurts, so Gladio shakes his head and continues talking. “Noct coming for dinner or something? Hurt I didn’t get an invite.” He teases.

Ignis can hear the question in his voice, the covered up hurt that he wasn’t invited. If Ignis was a brat he’d roll his eyes at the thought of it. Gladio was one of his closest friends. Yet, he seemed to assume that Ignis was trying to rid himself of him more often than not.

“No, it’s someone from my cooking class.”

“A Girl?” He asks, curiosity evident in his tone. Ignis can tell he’s still stocking items as the papers and cans rustle to his right. The soft thump of a can on strong wood as he stacks them one by one.

“A friend.” Ignis says, setting his coffee down on the table. The warmth of it is causing him to sweat - or maybe that was the nervousness. He really didn’t want to talk about this. Especially not if Gladio was going to play 20 questions with him.

“So, a girl. Luna introduce you guys or something?” Gladio finishes, separating the paper and plastic into the different bins, and then walks over, standing at Ignis’ side. His shadow falls over Ignis and he’s cast into a darker, dimmer world than usual.

“It’s a man. We’re cooking partners and I’m just inviting him over to get to know him, that’s all.” Gladio really shouldn’t worry about Ignis. He’s blind but he’s not an infant. He can still take care of himself. He might not be able to bench press a mammoth but he’s quick and he still knows how to use his daggers.

“Well, that’s good. You need some new friends.” Gladio says without skipping a beat. Ignis lifts his chin, angling towards the large man standing, and just raises an eyebrow in question.

“Last time I invited someone over you crashed in and accused them of taking advantage of me and trying to steal my knife collection.” Ignis deadpans, still somewhat traumatized by the entire turn of events.

“And I thought they were. Listen, I wasn’t gonna do anything weird, I just - I was trying to be supportive. I mean, it’s not my fault if I happen to show up tonight and crash the party…” Gladio retorts, a hand clapping Ignis’ shoulder and squeezing there, the warmth seeping into him is welcome, but the threat, however friendly, is not.

“Do not embarrass me tonight, Gladio.” Ignis says, arms moving to cross over his chest in exasperation. “I will make your life miserable.”

“Sure, you will. Anyways, I’m serious. If the dude turns out to be a creep, you call.”

“Fine, fine.” Ignis gives in. The feeling of being parented stronger than ever.

“Alright, I’ll see ya. Take care - and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Gladio yells as he exits the kitchen and heads to the door. 

Ignis can’t help but mutter under his breath, “Not exactly words to live by...”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto arrives and brings a gift...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to post the last of this scene soon. I'm curious though. I think the story could be longer but I'm not sure how people feel about me adding chapters each post. Just know there are still scenes to go. So not just one chapter left!  
> *  
> twitter: @korebuns

If someone told Prompto he’d been in a store, trying to find a gift for a man, that he wasn’t dating, a week ago, he’d said they were crazy. Here he is though, sniffing through different roses, trying to see if any of them smell different from the others, and then pacing back to the bakery wondering if maybe a dessert would be better. Dessert, he finally concludes, isn’t the best idea to give someone who’s teaching you how to cook. If anything, bringing something store bought would probably offend the guy and Prompto really doesn’t need any help in that category. He’s offensive enough by himself.

It’s decided then, cheap roses in hand - a $10 for a dozen - he hops back in his car, feeling better about arriving with nothing but the clothes he's wearing. He debated for several minutes on trying to dress up but the thought of ruining his only good outfit with a cooking disaster stopped him.

In the daylight it’s easier to see where he’s at and the houses and apartments surrounding the area. Everything is exquisite. Expensive brick and aesthetically charming houses, each with their own special placement and expensive cars out front. He wonders if this is all owned by Royal and Crown or not. When he does arrive at Ignis’ house, he can see it in it’s full glory.

It’s two stories with a balcony and several plants, a garden in the front, and a spacious front lawn that is impeccable. Ignis may not be able to see it but he has wasted no expense on the upkeep of the place. Maybe Prompto _should_ have worn his good clothes, apparently Ignis was more concerned about appearances than he thought. 

That only served to make Prompto even more nervous as he parked his beaten up car out front. It wasn’t trashy by any means, but the paint was scuffed and it was an older model that wasn’t _quite_ old enough to be considered vintage. Which meant... it just looked poor in this neighborhood. He bit his lip and breathed through his nose. Trying to expel his nervous energy. If Ignis was going to teach him how to cook then he needed to get in there and learn. That was the only way he was ever going to make more money and move up in society.

He was a Nif. The lowest class of all the working classes. He looked it to - and probably acted like it as well. He wasn’t sure but he knew for damn sure he was more expressive than anyone else last night. They were all so rigid and composed. Ignis, most of all. Prompto grabbed the flowers, and started towards the door. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a large man coming his way and he instantly felt nervous.

_Shit_ , _do they have security here?_

The guy was huge, broad shoulders, tatted up and intimidating. He didn’t wear a uniform or badge but Prompto knew better than to mess with him. They made eye contact and the guy just held it. Not moving or saying anything, Prompto finally broke eye contact and all but ran up the stairs to ring Ignis’ doorbell. He could hear Ignis yell out from inside that he was coming and Prompto anxiously looked back to see that the other man was gone. Completely out of sight. _Had he been imagining things?_

Straightening up he held the flowers, hoping Ignis would like this. Unfortunately, for the first time since buying them, he suddenly thought that they might give the wrong impression. It almost looked like he was trying to court Ignis and that was _certainly_ not his intention. Horrified, he could only hold his breath as Ignis opened the small viewing window. It was too late now, he couldn’t just throw the flowers down in the garden and pretend he hadn’t bought them. That’d be a waste of money.

“Yes?” Ignis asked.

“Hey, it’s Prompto.”

“Oh, good. I’m glad you were able to find your way.” Ignis smiled and unlocked the door, opening it fully for Prompto to enter. “I realized last night I forgot to give you my number. I assume your GPS saved the address?”

“Yeah, it did!” He said with a smile, easily falling into conversation with the other as he followed him, a few steps behind. “Uh, I brought you something - it’s kind of stupid now, but I thought I shouldn’t show up empty handed and uh - here.”

He holds the flowers out, willing Ignis to just take them and hopefully never speak of them again.

“What is ‘it’?” Ignis asks, tentatively putting out a few fingers where he thinks the object might be.

“Oh shit, sorry. I brought flowers - roses. Thought you might like the smell.” He says honestly, cheeks red both from embarrassment over the flowers and the fact that he, once again, forgot Ignis can’t see. He takes Ignis’ hand with his own and guides the flowers into the mans grasp. “I liked the smell but, you know, my tastes aren’t are good as yours.”

Ignis gave him a small smile, amused, before sniffing at them, jolting slightly when the petal touched his nose sooner than expected. “I beg to differ. These are wonderful. Thank you Prompto. If you could, there’s a vase on the third shelf in that cabinet,” he points. “Fill it with a bit of water and we’ll put them on the counter.”

Prompto is happy to help, thankful that Ignis doesn't tease him or tell him get out. Ignis wanders next to him and Prompto’s surprised at his ability to walk around so easily before remembering, _Duh, it’s his house. He knows it backwards and forwards_. Still, Prompto’s careful not to get in his way, stepping around or out of his path depending on what he’s doing.

The flowers, sad looking but good smelling, rest on the counter now. Ignis pulls down an apron down from a nearby hook and tying it at his waist. 

“Are you ready to begin?” He asks. Fingers moving to brush his hair away from his forehead out of habit.

“Totally!” He crosses over to stand beside Ignis and eyes the other apron there questioningly, before speaking up. “Can I use this one?”

Ignis, to his credit only flinches slightly but Prompto can tell from the way he gasps, he's spooked Ignis.

“You might be a _mouth breather_ but you are extremely light on your feet.” He’s so different from Noct or Gladio who announce themselves constantly through speech or heavy footfalls. It actually gives Ignis anxiety momentarily before he breathes in deeply, centering himself. “Sure go ahead. It might be a bit big on you. I’m not sure of your body type.”

Ignis can tell Prompto is of average size, he thinks, just from where his voice sounds off but other than that, he’s not positive. His hands felt average on his arm last night, larger than Luna’s soft grip but smaller than Gladio’s. Beyond that, Prompto could be overweight or thin as a rail. He wouldn’t know.

“It’s okay,” Prompto says, tying the Apron twice around himself for a good fit. He’s considerably more petite than Ignis but it’s fine, he’s just glad to have a shield on. “Fit’s fine!”

“Alright, then, for our first task. I think we should talk about what you can cook. We’ll figure out your skill level and basic knowledge and go from there.” Ignis says, realizing they probably didn’t need Apron’s yet. Still he missed wearing it. He feels more at home already. Elbow resting on his other arm, fingers resting at his chin in a thoughtful pose, as he takes on a listening stance. “Go ahead.”

Prompto chews at his lip, uncharacteristically silent as he thinks. What can he cook? He thought he could cook an egg but last night showed him differently. He suddenly felt very overwhelmed, his heart rate rising as he realized what a sham he was. He’d lied to get here and now he didn’t know what to do.

“Prompto, I can literally feel your anxiety. It’s not a test. I’m just curious.” He adds, waiting a few more seconds before adding on helpfully. “What do you normally eat?”

“Cup Noodles… Poptarts… toast…” He says lamely, shame burning his face. He wants to bury his face in his hands. _This was a terrible idea._ Ignis seems to largely be thinking the same thing, eyebrows rising with every passing second. Prompto is sure at some point they’ll just disconnect entirely and float into the sky.

“So you have some experience with a toaster and possibly the microwave and stove top…” Ignis says, shoulders slouching just slightly in defeat before his features take on a determined look again. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll start from the very beginning. Let’s boil some water.”

Prompto perks up. Ignis almost sounds optimistic which isn't something he expected. Blue eyes cutting through dark lashes to look at Ignis, he falls in beside him, albeit submissively as he waits for instruction. He finds out quickly that Ignis is hardly inept in kitchen even with his disability.

Moving within the space, albeit somewhat awkwardly since Prompto's there too, Ignis grabs a pot, filling it with water, and using his finger to measure when it’s nearly the top. He places it on the stove top immediately after. Prompto starts to see how he’s doing everything so fluidly. It's partially muscle memory and partially little tricks. Ignis’ is tactile with everything he does. Fingertips seeking out the edge of the stove and then moving enough forward to be on the stoves heating plate. He wipes his hand against his apron, stepping back with a small smile, gesturing to Prompto to step forward.

“Do you know what to do from here?” He asks.

“Yeah, definitely - heat it up!”

“And how will you know when it’s hot enough to be considered boiling?”

“Uh - when it boils…”

“But how do _you_ know. What do you see?”

“Bubbles?”

“Yes. It’s called a rolling boil. Now, let’s start boiling some water and then we can move on to actually boiling things - like eggs for instance.” Ignis smirks, just slightly. 

Prompto can’t help but shrug his shoulders, which are feeling lighter with Ignis' kind demeanor encouraging him.

“Well, at least I can’t burn them again.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4k word update. Ignis begins to understand his feelings and things get warm in the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me at @korebuns everywhere.

It only takes Gladio a few hours to hassle Ignis whereas Noctis gives him time. Allowing Ignis to ruminate on his thoughts towards the Prompto. He doesn’t know what he thinks yet. Ignis likes Prompto. He finds him entertaining, honest, and altogether fine with his disability. Something that Ignis knows can make some people uncomfortable. It doesn’t seem to phase Prompto, save for the times when he forgets and says something mildly inappropriate like,  _ oh, wow, look at that. _ To which Ignis always intentionally blinks a few times and says, _Oh Wow_ _ , _ in his flatest tone. Prompto never takes it badly though. Ignis can hear the way Prompto blows out air, embarrassed - or the way he sometimes smacks himself in the forehead for being so silly.

Really, Ignis doesn’t care. He’s happy to have company that he doesn’t work with. Of course Gladio keeps dropping by the house and asking about the mystery man but Ignis doesn’t give away anything. If Gladio really wants to know then he can come in and stop scaring Prompto from the street. Prompto had been out of sorts; nervous, anxious and a little feverish acting when he came in the fourth time they practiced together. After a bit, Prompto had finally admitted he got nervous about the security guard outside Ignis' house and parked his car a block down waiting until the man finally took the corner and ran to Ignis’ front door to avoid him. He didn't say why but Ignis knew he felt out of place here. Like he didn't fit in. Ignis had called Gladio immediately after sending Prompto on a useless errand upstairs for some spices, that he knew he wouldn’t find, as they were actually in a box in the downstairs closet, unused and unopened.

**Dialing Gladio.**

Ignis: Whatever you’re doing when my friend visits. You need to stop.

Gladio: I’m just trying to make sure he’s not packing heat or something.

Ignis: He’s not.

Gladio: Come on! You gotta let us see him sometime!

Ignis: Apparently you’ve already seen him. He’s sure there is a ‘security’ man following him. You wouldn’t happen to know who that is, would you?

Gladio: No…?

Ignis: You’re a bad liar.

Gladio: You said he’s just a friend. And he brought flowers. You’re a bad liar.

Ignis: Gladio, I’m warning you. Leave us be. He’s fine.

He ended the call while Gladio was still trying to talk - arguing with him again. Ignis refused to let Gladio trifle with his affairs. It had been amusing when he had his sight to see Gladio pretending to be intimidating but now, it was likely to run off the one person he truly wanted to keep around. This cooking program was something he adored, attending each year purely due to his enjoyment of the dishes taught and the hosts personality.

Ignis could not pretend to be ignorant of Noctis’ simmering affections towards Luna but he could willingly turn a blind eye - he cringed at the unintended irony of the pun - towards their quiet romance. Luna had slowly begun to intertwine herself with Noctis. First, there had been the small request that Noctis design her an opening night wardrobe for her entire staff based on an eclectic winter solstice theme. Now, she was requesting summer and Ignis found there were more and more meetings, later and later, as the company rushed to meet the deadline. In fact, it was one of the reasons that Ignis took Prompto’s offer the first night they met.

Noctis was becoming unreliable and Gladio was becoming unbearable. Tonight was the second night of he and Prompto’s cooking program. This time he'd arrived early, waiting patiently, facing the door and making small talk with Luna, as they mingled away from the crowd. It was likely, Ignis thought, that people wanted to talk to Luna but felt strange approaching his table. Ignis found that his disability seemed to be the equivalent of a repellent for prim and proper associates that previously had been impossible to avoid. Rubbing shoulders and often inappropriately asking for favors. Now, while he was mostly ignored by them, he felt oddly isolated from the group, even though he didn’t particularly miss any of them.

“Ignis, I was wondering, has Noctis mentioned anything about me lately?”

“Yes, of course. He talks about your company often. Especially the fabrics they’re using.” He says with a sincere smile. Happy to talk about business with her.

“Oh, yes. That’s good.” She says softly. Ignis cocks his head slightly, confused by her tone.

“Is that not what you wished to hear? I thought you’d be pleased we’re making good time on the summer solstice line.”

“No, no. I apologize. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I had just hoped for something a bit more personally targeted.”

“He only ever speaks highly of you. You are, indeed, one of our most esteemed customers. It’s an honor to design for you.”

Luna, who was softly leaning against his table, her fingers gently settled over his own as they talked, comforting and warm, were removed as she easily concluded their conversation with a polite excuse. 

“Your partners arrived. I’ll take my leave and say hello to the others before we begin.”

“Oh, thank you, Luna.” 

As relieved as he was that Prompto had arrived and could save him from the strangeness of being alone in a crowded room, he found it hard to shake Luna’s strange tone.

“Hey, what’d you say to her? She looked depressed as hell.” Prompto wasted no time with pleasantries, talking as he slid into the chair beside Ignis and dropped his messenger bag on the floor beside him. He didn’t seem to notice that his elbows were bumping with Ignis’ own or that his proximity was too close for that of Ignis’ normal comfort level. Indeed, for anyone in this room, the lack of space between Ignis and Prompto was likely being deemed inappropriate but Ignis found he didn’t mind though he felt anxious about it. In a strange way, the closeness helped him better understand Prompto. 

He could feel him gesturing as he spoke; sense his energy and hear his inflections better. He could also more easily gain an insight into his height and proportions. From what Ignis could tell, the seat had hardly moved away from the table, the elbow and arm seemed thin, and something about Prompto’s voice gave him the idea of a younger man. He found himself wonder what he was wearing and what color his hair might be. It passed quickly, the thought quickly filed away as simply curiousity.

“Nothing unusual. She asked about some work we’re doing for her, and then seemed perplexed by the news it was going well. I haven’t the slightest clue why she reacted that way.”

“Oh. I thought maybe you guys broke up.”

“What?” Ignis turned in his chair, arms and knees knocking against Prompto’s own. The resounding grunt from Prompto likely gained them strange looks if it was heard but Ignis couldn’t help the way his eyes widened behind dark lenses and how his mouth fell open of its own accord. “We’re not dating!” He tacks on quickly, heart racing. He’s praying to the Astrals above that Luna didn’t hear that. He did not want to risk her taking her business somewhere else because his mentee had a big mouth. “Don’t say things like that so loud.” Ignis hissed through a mixed expression of panic and defensiveness.

Prompto actually let out a squeak when their knees colliding together under the table, surprised by the sudden contact.

“I- I’m sorry. I just thought - you seemed really close. I didn’t mean anything by it--,” He stammered out, voice lowered to match Ignis’ tone and volume. They sounded more like conspirators than conversationalists now.

“Well, you thought wrong. She’s a client. That’s all.” Ignis snapped. He was polite but curt. His nose only inches away Prompto’s own. He could feel the tension in Prompto’s body through the grip he had on his forearm. Prompto was stiff, wound tight, and Ignis let go immediately, chastising himself for being so dramatic. He turned trying to turn himself back to the table, only to accidentally grab Prompto’s arm again, which had been placed there after it’s release. Prompto moved his hand quickly, as if burnt. 

“Please don’t tell me to leave. I won’t screw up again. I promise.” Prompto whispered from beside him. Voice small and meek, farther away from him now. As if he had scooted to the far side of his chair, elbows and knees no longer touching as he added space between them purposefully. Ignis threaded his fingers together, breathing in deeply. Irritated with himself. Obviously, Prompto was living in fear that Ignis was going to kick him out at any minute. Something Ignis couldn’t understand as he’d done so much to help him stay and hone his talents. And because, _couldn’t Prompto see?_ Without Prompto, Ignis couldn’t be here either.

“Prompto… I’m not going to ‘fire’ you.” He said, air quoting as he spoke, ignoring how silly he probably looked. “If you haven’t noticed,” He leaned in the direction he thought Prompto’s ear was, “I can’t be here without you. And I desperately want to be here.”

“Okay.” Prompto whispered, still sitting on the far edge of the chair, unwilling to return to his original position. Ignis could hear Luna making her way towards the front and he could make out the sounds of shoes moving across the floor and aprons being put on. It was going to begin soon and he and his partner were hardly in a place to work in close quarters.

“I’m sorry I got upset. I’m embarrassed and frankly surprised at my behavior. I’m not typically so expressive or rude. I regret how I acted.”

“Even your apologies are fancy.” Prompto says finally, after Ignis begins to feel a sheen breaking out on his forehead of sweat and his heart has begun racing with a panicky feeling in his chest. When he feels Prompto’s fingers against his sleeve, his cue that Prompto is fixing to lead him somewhere, he feels his heart slow down finally. Relief soaring through his body.

It’s only when he lays down that night, letting the comfort of sleep take him that he ruminates on Luna’s reaction and his own. He still isn’t sure why she was sad about their success but he’ll ask Noctis when he finds time. Ignis keeps hearing Prompto’s voice in his head. The memories of the night are still fresh and he almost feels like he’s back in the kitchen, imagining himself surrounded by herbs and spices. What surprises him is how he keeps imagining a sort of vague person with him in his dream state. A man, that he assumes is Prompto, talking soothingly in his ear as they cook together. 

_Maybe, just maybe_ , he thinks, _he reacted so impulsively tonight because Prompto presence affects him. Makes him less uptight. Makes him… passionate again_ … in ways he hasn’t felt since he got hired at Royal and Crown or took on his first cooking experiment.

*

**Voice to text:** Noctis, is there something going on between you and Lunar?

**Text to Voice:** Lunar? You mean Luna?

**Voice to text:** Yes. You can blame the phone for its voice to text analysis.

> _**Incoming Call:** CONTACT NOCTIS CAELUM IS CALLING. _

“This is easier.” Noctis says as soon as the line clicks on.

“I didn’t want to bother you since it was early.” Ignis admits. Remembering Noctic's terrible sleeping habits.

“Yeah. I guess it is. I’m up early trying to finish some projects I’ve pushed aside for the Solstice line.”

“I’m proud of you Noct. That’s very responsible of you.”

“Thanks Iggy. Now why are you asking weird questions about Luna at 6 in the morning.”

“I’m not sure really. She was just… She was acting strange last night. And it worried me. Is something going on?”

The line was quiet for a moment, Noctis evidently thinking across the line. “I don’t think so?”

“My … friend said she looked extremely depressed when I told her the line was going well. I find that so strange.”

“Huh. Maybe he misjudged it? She can be hard to read sometimes. I mean, just yesterday I asked her to dinner and she said, for work or play. And I said, work - You know, what else would we talk about - and she just sort of got quiet and decided to go home early. Women can be weird.”

“Well, perhaps you can dig a little more and find out? I think something is wrong, I’m just not sure what it is…” Ignis said, frown creasing his features as it deepened.

“Yeah, well, I’ll handle it.”

“I know you will Noct.”

There’s a moment where Ignis thinks they’re going to hang up but he can hear Noctis across the line, the way his throat makes a quiet noise, like he’s trying to thinking how to phrase his next few words.

“Gladio says your new friend seems nice.”

“He is.”

“You’re keeping him awfully sealed away… Are you embarrassed of your friends?” Noctis teases.

“No - of course not. I’m just not sure it’s a good time yet. I don’t want him to feel self-conscious. He’s rather shy.” Ignis doesn't think it's right of him to mention his economic status, even though it's large part of why he doesn't want Prompto to meet Noctis.

“Gladio didn’t seem to think so.” Noctis says, sounding as if he knows something Ignis doesn’t.

“How...would Gladio…. know?”

Ignis could almost here Noctis shrug across the line, a smirk no doubt plastered across his face.  “I hear he’s been getting gas at a new place lately.”

“I told him-,” Ignis began.

“And he didn’t listen.” Noctis laughed through the speaker. “Big surprise. Anyways, he says he seems nice. Apparently, Gladio thinks he’s pretty comical. Got a ton of freckles and big blonde hair that looks like a Chocobo butt.”

“Oh for the love of-- I’m hanging up.”

“See ya Iggy.”

*

Their sixth meeting went spectacularly. Even Luna had commented on how well they had worked together. Ignis was a technical genius and Prompto, with enough instruction could do just about anything that Ignis taught him. The process was messier than Ignis would have liked but teaching someone how to feel whether something was the right consistency under the beaters required a more hands on approach. Specifically Ignis’ hands on Promptos as the stirred, beat, and kneaded various things.

Ignis found himself curiously imagining what Prompto looked like as they worked together. His nose often times being tickled when he got too close to Prompto’s hair, conjuring up in his mind, images of Chocobo butts pasted on top of a freckled boy's face. There was so little for him to go off of us. There were Gladio and Noctis' descriptions but also his voice and various quirks Ignis had noted. Always wearing a wristband on one arm. A beanie typically tucked away in his back pocket, taken out on days when he and Ignis walk the neighborhood near Royal and Crown, looking and listening for inspiration to hit.

“I’m beat. I think I’m gonna head home.” Prompto says finally as they begin to pack up. Ignis doesn’t respond, instead nodding as he begins to unpack his walking stick.  Typically Prompto would drive Ignis home and talk for a few moments before heading off. Something that Ignis loved but didn’t take for granted. He could tell from Prompto’s voice he was tired. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive home?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. It’s only an hour that way.” He says offhandedly, a testament to how out of it Prompto was that he didn’t specify any farther. Ignis ignored the fact that he had no idea which direction he was gesturing and instead honed in on the time. “You drive an hour here? How do you make to my house when you work?”

“Oh,” Prompto said sheepishly. “That’s a little different. Work is only around 35 minutes from here. Home is even farther. I live in Nifheilm.” 

Ignis could tell from the way he said the word that he didn’t want to. It was shame, but there was a hesitancy as he said it. As if Ignis would judge him based on his neighborhood. Ignis was more concerned about the money that Prompto had been spending for his house visits.

“Prompto-- you should have told me. As your sponsor I would have gladly paid for your gas.”

“No- I don’t want any handouts. I’m fine.”

“It’s a sponsorship- not a handout.”

“I’m fine, Ignis.”

Ignis jumped as a small, delicate arms touched his elbow. Judging from the sound Prompto made as they stepped outside into the darkness, he’s just as surprised by her silent presence. 

“Everything alright?” Luna asks softly.

“Yes, of course. I was just calling my ride.” Ignis offers stiffly, unwilling to let her know anything more about Prompto. He knew how people reacted to Nif’s. Knew how they treated them, purely based on their economic status. He hadn’t ever cared before, not really, but now he found himself angry on their behalf.

“Oh! Here let me!” She says with a flourish, deftly plucking the phone from his grip and moving away from them, towards the curb, her heels clicking against the cement as she moved away. He notices how she laughs on the phone, no doubt speaking to Noctis. And something just clicks in his gut that never had before.  _ Lunafreya was after Noctis for more than his work related talents. _

Prompto, still at his side, sighs. And Ignis immediately forgets about his bosses affair and speaks. “Drive safe. Please.”

“Of course Iggy.” Prompto says with a yawn, stifling it with his hand, before giving Ignis a halfhearted shoulder hug. “Bye.”

“Bye.” He repeats. Ears straining to follow Prompto’s footsteps as they fade away across the road, masked by the late night traffic and the sound of nightlife and insects.

He can still hear Luna giggling in the background, a regular school girl as she teases Noctis about his driving skills. Something that truly does make Ignis crack a smile at the same time as feeling his stomach lurch. He’d really let Noctis down in that regard. Always taking the responsibility of driving, until at someone point Noctis just stopped trying to learn. It was no surprise that now, in his mid twenties, his driving was, at best, subpar. He’s surprised when he hears what sounds like a motor not turning over. He turns his head towards the sound, trying to suss out if it’s in Prompto’s direction or if it’s someone else. The thought crosses his mind that perhaps he shouldn’t be so close to the sideway. He steps back, hearing a car door shut now, and a gentle cursing getting louder as it approaches.

“I need to call a tow truck. Damn starter must be out.”

“Please, allow me to take care of it. I am your sponsor.”

“For cooking, not for my car.” Prompto counters.

“I don’t think you can afford a tow, Prompto. Not if you’re working at a gas station and spending money to get back and forth.”

“I make decent money Ignis.” Prompto says, defensively.

“I didn’t say otherwise but you’re on the upper side. Things cost more here just because.” Ignis says, with a slight smile. Knowing how outrageous the cost of living here could be. “My ride will be here shortly. Just come with me and we’ll get everything settled.”

“I don’t know….Ignis.”

“I insist. I won’t bite.” Ignis says, unwilling to plead outwardly, but uncomfortably aware of how much he wants Prompto to be around a bit longer.

“He’s almost here!” Luna announces as she clicks up in her heels. Nails clicking against the phone as she hands it back to him. “Prompto, what’s wrong?”

Ignis doesn’t question how she knows. If nothing else, she had an intuition that seemed to offer insight into everyone and everything. He assumed that same institution she had in picking culinary dishes for patrons extended to reading emotions outside of the kitchen. 

“My starters out is all.”

“Oh dear. Do you have a ride?” She asks, concern evident. Ignis can imagine her eyes, so expressive, as they watch the blonde.

“I’ll be taking him to mine tonight. That way I can have the company come by and tow it free of charge.”

Prompto perked up at this, though Ignis couldn’t see it. 

“Company?” Prompto inquired. A question in his voice that almost verged on suspicious. Ignis didn’t know how it never got brought up but he supposed it was as good a time as any.

“I’m the President of the Royal and Crown company.” He said quietly. Feeling self conscious of his privilege. Prompto didn’t say anything. Instead Luna spoke first.

“And here comes the CEO.” Ignis could hear the engine after she announced it. The sweet low rumble as it pulled up to the curb. When Noctis' voice sounded immediately in front of them, Ignis could only assume the top was down.

“Hey, Iggy! Luna!”

Iggy waved, while Luna said Hello back. Prompto was still quiet, and Ignis was beginning to become concerned.

“OH, you must be Prompto! I’ve heard so much about you!”

“Hi.” Came the quiet, sheepish voice from beside him. Hardly audible but atleast, Ignis thought selfishly, Prompto hadn’t somehow vanished. Hearing him speak helped ease Ignis' anxiety. 

“Prompto’s car is broken down. I intend to have it hauled in the morning but for now I’m going to offer him lodging. Could you drive us home?”

“Lodging??” Prompto spluttered at this side. “I’m not looking for a handout Ignis!” He half hissed, half whispered, as if unable to decide if he wanted to argue in front of Luna and Noctis. 

“I insist, Prompto. You’re tired. I have more than enough room for company and you’d have to take a bus to get home and then back. It would take twice as long and then you’d have to pay for the tow in town. Let me help. We’re friends aren’t we?”

Ignis felt like he was pulling his trump card. Finally putting out there what he had felt was true since they met. They were friends weren’t they? And Prompto deserved to be helped.

“Okay, fine but I’m paying you back.”

“That’s perfect.” Ignis says, realizing he’s won the battle, though likely not the war.

Noctis, who’d likely been watching the verbal sparring match, was smiling, Ignis could tell, as he spoke. “Prompto, you can sit up front. Iggy can’t appreciate the view anyways.”

Ignis rolled his eyes, knowing his friend was making fun of him in order to make Prompto laugh. 

“Noctis, please, do have some taste.” Ignis chastised him halfheartedly.

He started forward, surprised when Prompto tentatively touched his arm to help guide him. 

**It felt like a peace offering.**


End file.
